Luyện nghe bài hát Family Reunion

[Intro - Killa BH -
Uh oh!
that time again
It's too long
It's reunion
We got to y'all to the game (IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?)
You what let's talk to 'em (HUH?)
Let's go (IS WHAT YOU WANT?)

[Joe Budden - talking behind BH]
Uh
Mic check, mic
Check, one two, one two

[DJ On - talking]
Y'all already what time it is (y'all already know what time it is)
reunion (family reunion)
Ransom (Ransom), (Hitchcock), Fab (Fab), let's go

[Joe - talking behind DJ On Point]
The is out niggaz, uh
Get 'em boy

1 - Ransom]
Ain't nobody to rap or play me
I'll be at they crib with a couple and a black old AV
Black pay me, still get the smack off Baisley
I'm touchin more diesel than Shaq old lady
Boy, you did it, I it, I get it, I punish
The shit that I come separate a rib from a stomach
I'm the boss, when I spit it, you it
fact, I'm a Viking, I need a whole village to plumage
Yeah, the nigga is here, the is scared
You got the throne? I think I need to sit in your chair
We really get physical here
And the sky's the limit nigga, I put whole clique in the air
Baby, so quit playin, 'fore the spray 'em
And his MIA like Nick Saban
His whole shit in, my whole clique cavemen
Hard bodied nigga, my shit pavement
You can't spit if you dead in the
In the woods, where head'll be found
And it's good that you gettin it now, in the precinct it now
I can't with the rest of you clowns, faggot

[Verse 2 -
High in the before the storm
Park, the Audubon
Slang rock on the block that the water on
I be more gone, run and get your order form
time I record a song, gon' put my daughter on
Cause she than most niggaz
I tote triggers, for you broke and gold diggers with no figures
That why I the heater, for all you non-believers
I'm on your ass like white on Rice, I'm
con the preacher, you tryin to get on a feature
Better get your casket (why?), I'm gon' eat ya
We ain't in the same class
Your fake ass, stop a nigga with brake pads
I'm way past, anything you ever did
I'm better kid and we sweat a bid
It's to get a cig
In the bing, I'm like Ving Rhames, I bring
I sling 'caine off the wing I'm King James
Y'all doubtin
When I spit the whole lead, they be Code Red, like Mountain Dew
'Fore I count to two, you could get your back (OH!)
Cause your out of minutes like a TracFone (NIGGA!)
Get back homes, I'm back on my
I don't mingle, I'm like Pringles, my chips
Clappin my fifth, you the 'test me
Comin out with a "Blade" to get sniped
So the could arrest me, right? It's not happenin
You ain't ever gonna get on, so stop
(H20) this summer, so stop askin
All heat like Street, your stock crashin
Now the Feds want to read his
Lord mercy, Jesus Christ, I got passion
I'm black and all my niggaz gettin 'feti
We in the Chevy and ready to pop and (what? OH!)

[Chorus - Joe - w/ ad libs]
So whatever you to do little niggaz (niggaz), I already done (done)
And since you want to by it little nigga (nigga), then die by the gun (gun)
See whatever you tryin to do nigga, I've already done (done)
So how the fuck you gon' win little (nigga), I've already won (won)

3 - Fabolous]
Like we do it, d-d-damn
Yes (yes), go (yes), uh huh
Aiyyo, money is the root of all evil I
But when I'm broke is usually when I have the evilest
That's when the arms come out, like sleeves when it's
With more bullets than favorite wide receiver has caught
And Randy Mossberg, ya Steve Smith & Wesson ya
Your shoes pop up like Instant
You've got mail, naw you got shells
And my Mac, you can't use for
I've got that, confused that lie flat
And my gat is on leg like tat
I that nigga, who you
Some broke niggaz who tryin to get some views
So you want a point blank, boy you're too close
Bail's in pocket, is Lawyer Lou Los
I'm pretty sure more seen me in that four door ridey
Double pipes like a off shotty, nigga

(IS THIS YOU WANT?)

4 - Joe Budden]
Look, I flow sickly, ridin, bumpin old
Roll me or lose weight, Nicole Richie
Fuck plat, if I don't reach fame
I treat a nigga's like the old Simon game
out why men try us
Cause we OD on and then tires, for that we Len Bias
All it takes is a
He brave, he a punk
put his family in boxes, meet the Brady Bunch
How feel yourselves?
Should kill yourselves, us Cowboys don't you, you Bill Parcells
And you ain't got to your pockets when the K's out
Whatever you is mine, you my PayPal
See I get how this guy is a threat
I make his life inept for a pie to the
Ride or die, if you nigga, ride to the death
I the whole left side of his chest
Not retirin, still got that pension
Tryin to pop the hood and see the missin
barrelled shotgun, have your men get missin
She got pretty brown eyes and she in condition
Oh the cig in the car, you en moi
Take the ratchet go home and just Benoit
I tell a bird it is, you promise the broad
I one her (you), you Isiah Thomas the broad
I could a clique cartridge at a nemesis target
And catch a ROR on Jena 6 charges (naw)
Naw, I'll put thing away
I don't even need a whole hairdo to flip 'em, all it take is one finger
Been in the for days, show you how I'm real
Come home to the truck the Optimus Prime grill
out crack, got the scene poppin off
They not on 'em, the fiends is noddin off
For real, me how you a thug and you Superman (nigga)
I just seen you in the doin the Superman (nigga)
A bunch of clowns
All I in this world is the pound chrome, Huxtable brown stone
Major (I mean), cake by the layers
If dudes is live, I'm the Creative Player
callin 'em 'Kings' when they so so hot
Something's wrong with that picture, must be
I don't promote violence, but when sparkin the flame -
Arms start wavin like the Carlton dance
When them tools go pop, it move blocks
Come around your dog and get Cujo shot
These MC's is lame, I try to be an MC with
niggaz is MC Brains
Bein nice, rappers is far bein nice
I'm on the rooftop recordin, and niggaz is sniped
like

[Chorus - w/ ad

[Outro - DJ On Point - - w/ Killa BH ad libs in background]
to the whole BSC (whole BSC)
Shout to my nigga Dru
SlimeBugz, DJ
The Don (The Don), Dre (Dre Bless)
DJ Baby Dru (DJ Dru)
My nigga